Upon learning that Yuan Du had skipped two grades and even defeated Chen Ji, who had constantly bullied him, the man-system pair felt genuinely happy for him.
The protagonist had endured so wretchedly for so long, and finally he could hold his head high for once!
Joyfully, Chu Xunsheng treated Yuan Du to a meal and even opened a bottle of wine to celebrate.
Not only were they celebrating Yuan Du’s victory, but Chu Xunsheng was also celebrating his own impending exit from the scene. According to the original plot, right around the time the protagonist first made a name for himself, the original owner’s commoner identity and his charade of pretending to be wealthy would be exposed. Overnight, he would become like a rat scurrying across the street with everyone shouting for its beating, ultimately to be killed off indifferently by Jiang Zhou, whom he had once painstakingly fawned over.
Yet Yuan Du was acting rather strangely.
Chu Xunsheng couldn’t quite pinpoint what was weird about him; he only felt that the person before him seemed much more silent, listless, with bruised dark circles under his eyes, keeping his head lowered without a word while radiating a sort of evil aura.
Resting his chin in his hand, Chu Xunsheng gazed at the person across from him and quietly asked the system whether this was the price one had to pay for growth.
Observing Yuan Du, the system also felt something was amiss, though it couldn’t pinpoint any concrete problem. It could only agree, “Perhaps it’s just a young man being overly eager to win, staying up late and working hard.”
That made sense, otherwise how could Yuan Du have skipped two grades to defeat Chen Ji? Smiling faintly, Chu Xunsheng spoke softly to Yuan Du, “Keep it up, Xiao Du! You’re going to grow up to be an amazing adult!”
Yuan Du had initially been eating in sullen silence. Knowing that absorbing the evil aura probably made him look rather abnormal, and that this evil aura was extremely unstable with a constant risk of backlash, he hadn’t wished to have too much contact with his teacher at the moment. Yet upon hearing those words, his heart jolted fiercely, feeling as though his battered heart, corroded by the evil aura, had resumed its slow rhythm once again.
Slowly, he murmured, “Teacher, wait for me. Wait for me… I’ll come back to find you.”
His voice was exceptionally hoarse, as if sand particles were scraping against his throat. Chu Xunsheng frowned slightly and was about to ask when Yuan Du abruptly stood up, tossed his bowl and chopsticks onto the table, and stumbled away at a run.
Dumbfounded, Chu Xunsheng watched him leave in a flurry.
Yesterday he was his dearest teacher, and today he was giving him the cold shoulder without a single parting word?
Lifting his head with a tragic expression, he said to the system, “Looks like we’re destined to be lonely. The cooked bird flew right away.”
The system shot him a glance, “If the protagonist doesn’t hate you, how are you going to exit the stage? This is actually great.”
That was true. Nodding thoughtfully, Chu Xunsheng said, “Take me home, then. I’m about to be exposed anyway. Next world, remember to make me a corrupt official who lives in a big house!”
Chatting and laughing along the way, the man-system pair walked back to the school, packed their belongings, and happily headed home, completely unaware of the sneaky figure trailing behind them.
The person following behind wore black clothing, with a black hood concealing their face. Only a strong jawline, firm lips, and a few unruly strands of hair spilling out from beneath the hood were visible. Seeming exceptionally silent, his lips were pressed into a straight line, though a closer look at his trembling fingertips revealed how turbulent his mood truly was.
That person was none other than Jiang Zhou.
Ever since hitting a wall at Chu Xunsheng’s door that day, Jiang Zhou had walked slowly back to his room, spending the entire journey in deep, agonizing contemplation and looking utterly troubled.
Why did Teacher Chu carry such a strong scent of red wine? And why was it precisely the same scent he had just spilled onto that waiter?
Could it be that the teacher was that waiter?
If that were true, then…
Jiang Zhou couldn’t describe his complicated feelings. On one hand, he felt panicked over his own actions, terrified that the teacher might harbor a grudge against him over this matter. He wanted nothing more than to fly over to Teacher Chu and slap himself a few times.
On the other hand…
He recalled those enchanting eyes and pale, thin lips hidden beneath the waiter’s fox mask. If the person beneath that mask was Teacher Chu…
If those astringent, thin lips brushed over by red wine belonged to that cold, powerful man from the weapon-forging class; if the lines outlined by that black uniform were hidden beneath the teacher’s black coat.
Locking his door, Jiang Zhou threw himself onto the bed, simultaneously loathing his own dirty thoughts while unable to stop his imagination from running wild, twisting himself into knots.
Yet the more he thought about it, the more suspicious he became.
Why would Teacher Chu happen to appear in that messy, chaotic slum just when he was disciplining Yuan Du? Why were so many people infatuated with Teacher Chu, yet not a single person knew where he lived? Why would Teacher Chu treat Yuan Du, someone from a garbage star, so well, so well it made him jealous?
And why would Teacher Chu stoop to being a waiter whom seemingly anyone could bully?
The answer was probably crystal clear by now.
Jiang Zhou’s eyes shone with an eerie brilliance. Having stayed up all night in a state of high excitement, his mind was entirely filled with unspeakable, whimsical ideas.
What if Teacher Chu truly was a commoner living in the slums, merely putting up a front of wealth…
He knew very well how harsh the discrimination against poverty was within this aristocratic academy. Beating, cursing, humiliation, isolation, and collective bullying were already everyday occurrences.
Would he care deeply about this? Probably so. No matter how aloof or mentally strong a person was, wouldn’t they fear facing such inhuman treatment?
Yet Jiang Zhou had no desire to let anyone else in the school discover this secret. He had no wish to see Teacher Chu subjected to any form of insult, mockery, or physical bullying. In his mind, that felt nothing short of desecrating a deity.
Still, who wouldn’t want to pull a high and mighty deity down from the clouds to dance with them? Who wouldn’t want to kiss and lick the deity’s body, pull away the black straps on his hands, and let his fingertips glide across his neck, waistline, and thighs, making him strip away that cold, aloof shell right beneath his touch?
Of course Jiang Zhou didn’t want to make this public. He only intended to use it as leverage to secure for himself a bridge, one that might seem negligible to Teacher Chu, yet would bring him closer to that person.
Once this rebellious idea took root, gathering evidence became a simple task. On an unassuming night, Jiang Zhou unobtrusively followed in Teacher Chu’s footsteps, trailing him for a long time as he boarded a dilapidated bus, walked through a long, dark, narrow alleyway, and entered the dilapidated slums.
This was a place he, as the eldest son of the empire’s top aristocratic family, had never stepped foot into.
Dim, noisy, dirty, and dilapidated. He watched the man skillfully dodge a heavily made-up woman waving her arms to solicit customers, and watched the man purchase a cheap cigarette by the roadside, lighting it and bringing it to his lips.
This was scenery he had never witnessed before, if one could even call it that. The man looked extremely decadent, his face obscured by wispy smoke, lowering his gaze and tilting his head slightly to catch the lighter held in his slender hand. Amidst the flickering firelight, the man’s graceful jawline and pale, thin lips were visible.
Scenery like this was about to belong to him.
Those slender fingers would intertwine with his, and those pale lips would press against his mouth and tongue…
Jiang Zhou’s heart pounded wildly. He suspected it had jumped right up to his throat, for how else could he find it difficult even to breathe?
He watched as the man produced a key, silently unlocked the door, opened it, and the moment the door began to close, he planted a leg right against the frame to block it.
“Good evening, Teacher Chu.”
Lifting his head slowly, the emotion burning in his eyes was the frantic excitement of a beast discovering its prey.
The man before him took a step back, the corners of his lips seemingly trembling.